


Someone To Stay

by Tinalbion



Category: The Boy (2016 Bell)
Genre: Angst, Character Deaths, Comfort, F/M, Groping, Sadness, Teasing, Vaginal Sex, mention of suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:55:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26501755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tinalbion/pseuds/Tinalbion
Summary: You were the first one to receive the letter that Mr. and Mrs. Heelshire sent to their son, but you weren't expecting to react the way you did. And how would Brahms take the news?
Relationships: Brahms Heelshire/Reader, Brahms Heelshire/You
Comments: 5
Kudos: 170





	1. Chapter 1

You were the one to find the letter. 

Your eyes scanned over it and suddenly you burst into heavy sobs. What did it even mean when the Heelshire’s said ‘she is yours to love and care for’, anyway? They were gone and they weren’t coming back, what would you do now that you were here in this mansion with just yourself and a doll? The outcomes all stacked up with you feeling extreme guilt since they had trusted you to remain here and carry on the household, but would you do it? 

Your back was toward the fireplace as you reread the letter dozens of times, unable to come up with an answer right now, all you could do was cry. How could they do that, not just to you but to themselves? Was life so terrible that they needed to take theirs so carelessly, leaving a stranger in their home that they tended to for years, then to have that person care for their 'son’? 

What would come of this if the local authorities had found out, would they arrest you or leave you to your new estate now that they detailed within the letter that you were to stay with Brahms. Whatever the outcome, you felt as if you needed to stay, not only to uphold your promise to the Heelshire’s but now to their orphaned son. 

It had been a spirit or something greater once you discovered that the doll did indeed move on its own, but since you were who you were, it didn’t bother you in the slightest bit. You welcomed the strange occurrences because it only meant that you hadn’t lost your mind, you were just blessed with the fact that this place was haunted and their son wanted to be cared for.

You needed to tell him though, whether he’d listen or not, you needed to. “Brahms,” you said through your tears as you stood from the floor, “we need to have a talk…” You had left him in the bedroom where he had remained as you entered the room, his glass face looking at you expectantly. “Honey, I’m so sorry,” you managed to choke out, still loud and clear for him. 

What you didn’t know was that the real Brahms had been keeping an eye on you since you left the room, making his way quickly and quietly through the walls as he watched you grab the mail. He always liked to see what you would be up to, but he took notice of your distress when you first read the letter, and it wasn’t something he would expect. 

To see you cry made his gut wrench with an unexpected feeling, it was too overwhelming for him at first, but he soon found himself wanting to cry with you and just hold you until you had stopped. The animalistic urge to burst through the wall and grab you subsided, all he wanted was to hold you and promise you that it would all be okay. 

Once you had begun to speak to the doll, Brahms followed through the walls, keeping his ears alert for what you were about to say, his stomach twisting into knots. He crouched down and placed his ear closer to the wall, listening intently.

“Brahms, I want you to know that whatever will happen next, I will promise to stay here and take care of you. It’ll be difficult, but… I think I can do it.” You forced yourself to hold in your sadness, already thinking of what you could do to fix this entire situation. 

In all honesty, you had nothing back home, nothing worth staying for, anyway. It wouldn’t hurt to uproot and start over here in the manor, so you figured that moving your things here would work, so long as you spoke to the appropriate people about it all. That was another issue for another day.

“I received a letter this morning,” you began slowly, “and I’m not entirely sure how to break this to you, hun.” You looked down at the neatly written words again and shook your head, hanging your head in defeat. “Your mom and dad won’t be returning, Brahms… they took… they took their own lives.” You began to cry again, trying your best to hold it together while you sat on the side of the bed looking down at the doll. “But don’t worry,” you added, “I’m going to work something out. I’ll be there for you.”

You caressed the side of the doll’s cheek, almost curious if it would shed a tear for his parents, but it didn’t. Though the real Brahms was still within the wall listening intently to just how broken you were over their loss. It was maddening that they took the cowards way out, they abandoned him and left him to his own devices. It infuriated him. He wanted to punch holes through the wood and kick and scream, but he would frighten you away and he needed you here more than ever now. 

Once you stood from the edge of the bed, you wiped your tears and gave the doll a smile. “Alright, Brahms,” you lifted him up with the letter still in your hand, clinging onto him as lovingly as you could, “we’re going to have to make a few calls. I’ll make you some lunch." 

Several moments of holding him, you took him downstairs to the kitchen and began to get everything situated, but Brahms didn’t move from his spot in the wall, he sat there and hung his head as he began to cry behind the porcelain mask. 

The temptation of destroying everything around him remained strong, the fear and the betrayal all hit him at once. But what warmed him was your dedication to what you thought was a simple doll, an object that held no feeling. He had chosen you and he did the right in doing so, but now he would have to approach his next move with caution. Revealing himself to you now would be a sensitive time and would cause more harm than good, so he would need this evening to think about it.

As you silently made yourself and the doll lunch within the kitchen, Brahms made his way to the living space he had within the home. He had everything he would ever need, his eyes looking blankly at everything that decorated the walls and the large wooden posts. He wanted you to her with him right now, he needed to have you here for comfort to hold him, stroke his hair, and tell him it would all be okay. He figured you would need the time to adjust to all of this, so he walked to his bed and sat on the edge of it, his shoulders slumped forward and his head hung low. He always felt alone no matter who he was surrounded by, and even when he had his play dates with Emily all those years back, she never really accepted him as a true friend, it always cut deep as he tried his best to be normal. Once he disposed of her, it didn’t feel better, it only made him feel more desperate for the longing of a normal life. 

His parents never felt the same after that day and they treated him more like a wild, caged animal more than a son. It only made his anger grow within him, they needed to know that he was something more. 

Hours passed as he sat alone, his thoughts consuming him as he heard you speaking faintly on the phone to a few different callers, sorting out what you could before the day was up. You had gotten somewhat far in the call list as you talked to your friends about helping you with a few things back home, and as soon as you hung up, you let out an overexaggerated sigh and placed the phone back into the receiver. 

“I’m sorry that took so long, Brahmsy,” you said sweetly as you walked back into the living room, where the doll had been placed on the chair with a book sitting beside him. “I’ve gotten some good progress today and figured I’d pick it up again tomorrow, I didn’t want to keep you waiting any longer.” Gently, you picked the doll up and smiled sadly at him and cradled him to your chest, wanting to sit there for just a moment.

Brahms lifted his head as he heard you speak to his doll, so he made his way to the wall that would get him the closest to you as he silently listened, his heart still burning. What seemed to calm the flames was you, no matter how much he tried to push away the fact, it was you. The man suddenly burst into tears behind the old wood, his child-like crying alerting you that it wasn’t just you in the home. 

You were scared as you looked down at the doll, hoping that you wouldn’t see tears in its eyes, but it was coming from another part of the room, so you had gently placed it down and listened for the crying as you stilled your breathing. Was there someone else in the house with you and were you going to die?

The sobbing intensified as you got to the far end of the wall in the furthest corner, your ear pressed up against the wallpaper. You held your breath again as you gave several gentle taps against it, and the crying stopped immediately after. Your head whipped over to the doll who continued to sit in the position you left it in, your heart raced at the thought of someone else being in the house with you, but instead of running or lashing out, you sadly placed your ear against the wall before you spoke.

“Brahms…?” It was a question you hoped had an answer to, but you wouldn’t know how to react if the spirit of Brahms was no spirit at all, and he was alive, mourning the loss of his parents. What if, though, it were true? He hid after the fire and never showed his face again, it could have been possible.

No one answered you. 

“Brahms, honey, I’m sorry.” Your eyes closed as you slid to the floor and leaned against the wall, hoping that whatever was going on would make sense, but right now, you had Brahms. “I’m so sorry…”

The man in the wall peeked his head up and looked at the wall as if he could see through it, seeing your face that was red and patchy from all the crying you’d done today, your glassy eyes that hadn’t stopped tearing up. Even in this state, he knew you were for him, he accepted you no matter what so long as you would accept him. He reached out his hand and placed it on the wall, his fingertips sliding down the surface. 

“I’m sorry, too,” he said softly. 

You gasped and pulled your head away, staring at the wall as if it were going to burst open. You adjusted yourself to sit on your knees, both of your hands firmly planted on the wall and you smiled. “I’m not crazy…” you said to yourself, confirming it. No one else would have known it, you figured the place was haunted, and here you were now hearing voices. “Brahms, let me see you, please.”

Brahms hesitated and wanted to shut down the idea right away, but the way you spoke to him, even by the mere fact you decided to stay, at some point in time, he would have to show his face to you.

“Do you promise not to run away…?” Brahms asked as he spoke closer toward you, his hand still flat against the surface. 

The real question was; were you ready to face the reality of the situation? You came this far, what was a bit more mystery to unravel? With a sure smile as you bit your bottom lip, you silently nodded. “I promise.”

That decided his fate. He sighed and quickly made it to his feet, making his way quietly through the path until he found the door that seemed like any other part of the wall to you, the gentle creak of the hinges alerted you of the opening, where you stared over toward, seeing nothing emerge just yet. Your hand squeezed into a fist out of fear and anticipation, wondering just what would step out from the other side, your eyes wide and watching. 

A hand popped out and was placed on the edge of the door, a tall and semi-muscular figure pushed through and stepped out, his feet bare and dirty as he placed them on the wooden floor. His untamed dark curls hung over the tattered porcelain mask where his face should have been, his eyes staring at you with such intensity. You wanted to run, but you knew who this had been and convinced yourself to stay. His clothing was dirty and it reeked of dust and earth, but no matter how terrifying he had looked when he came out of the hidden door, you felt your heart drop when he immediately sunk to his knees before you. His eyes met yours and you could tell he too had been crying, which only made you feel worse. He knew, the real Brahms knew, and he was broken over it.

“You stayed,” was all he could manage before you pulled yourself forward and wrapped your arms around him. As soon as you touched him, he went into shock, afraid of the intimate action that he had so longed for, but here you were, comforting him. He warmed in your grasp and buried his covered face between your neck and your shoulder, your hair covering him as he burst into heavy sobs, and he held you. 

Neither of you wanted to move from the floor right now; both of you had been too broken to stand and you also hadn’t known how to continue on with the initial shock of the man before you. You would figure that out tomorrow when you had a clearer head, but for right now, you needed to be there for Brahms.


	2. Call Out My Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting over the discovery of Brahms was something you never thought possible, but now your relationship with the masked man only grows more by the day, and now you see there's no way to deny what you're feeling.

Once you had gotten over the initial shock of discovering a man living within the walls of Heelshire Manor, it was something to get used to now that the living situation had changed slightly. You knew he was there, walking through the walls and watching you, but he rarely made sounds nor did he show his face very often. You had only seen him once before, the night he had first made his true presence known to you when he had found out about the death of his parents.

That was an experience all on its own and you hadn’t known how to feel once you discovered he was still alive. The grocery man who had delivered to the manor once a week had tried to make conversation to pique your interest, but the fact that the Heelshire’s made you babysit a doll was just beyond crazy. After hearing about their son’s death from Malcolm, it hurt you more than you thought it would. After that, you felt more sympathy toward the doll, acting as if it were one of your own, so it was like second nature taking care of him despite you not having a single motherly bone in your body. 

The night you saw him in his full, fleshy glory, you almost wanted to run and never come back, but you were both at a point that if you would have left, it would have been the worst possible decision. The mask was a dead giveaway to who he had really been and seeing those eyes peer out at you with such raw emotion had tugged at your heart, so you stayed. He spoke in a soft voice, still being the child he knew how to be, and he spoke your name as if he had known it for years. The feelings you held for the deceased child you thought were no longer something you just felt was necessary, you had felt true feelings for this man. So naturally, you became protective of him and took to him immediately, but he had still felt safer within the confines of the walls.

You would always sit in a room and speak through the wall, your head leaned against it as you talked about your past or just read to him. Whatever he had felt, you wanted him to know that you were no threat. But what you didn’t know was that he felt a great deal for you, his mind was filled with nothing but you. His dreams had your face in it, his waking moments held you in them. Whenever Brahms would hear Malcolm enter the home, he grew irritated and on edge, his eyes never leaving you as he watched safely from the shadows.

Despite your past learnings, you began to feel something more than just motherly instinct for him, and it bothered you that you were so easily falling for someone who had been mistreated so badly. How could you really help him when you could barely help yourself? It was a learning experience that you both would have to go through together, you figured. It was possible that you were both feeling the same for one another, you thought. When he had first shown himself and the way he looked at you, it was unmistakable that he had no one else, but lately, his quick glances turned into something longing.

As an unspoken promise, you never told Malcolm the true secret of Heelshire Manor and you never would. Brahms was thankful for that, but his darker moods took time to subside when that grocery man came over and acted as if he owned the place. He didn’t appreciate when the man would try to tempt you into leaving, hearing him promise you a good night out on the town filled with drinks and unspoken curiosities that Brahms knew very well what he had intended.

You were his and his alone. He chose you, there was no going back on your promises now, you were here for him and those were the rules. He would show you soon enough.

Brahms became incredibly possessive of you the first night you had seen him, he knew you wouldn’t leave, you stayed here knowing who and what he was, and you continued your routine with him as if nothing had changed. Keeping to his schedule added a bit of normalcy to the entire situation, which would be best for Brahms.

The day he grew incredibly bold was when you had just a taste of what you were in for. You had spoken loud and clear, alerting him that you needed to head out to town to grab a couple of essentials when you heard the normal response of creaking, and you figured he would just follow you as you walked to the door, you didn’t expect him to grab your arm before you even stepped outside.

“Where are you going…?” he asked in that high pitch.

You smiled nervously up at him, hoping not to scare him off. Seeing his glassy eyes through the mask made your heart leap. “Just going to town, Brahms. I promise I’ll be back.”

“No,” he stated, “you should stay here. Nothing you need is there, everything is here.”

Clingy wasn’t an issue with you typically, though he had been abandoned by his only family, you felt it would be normal for anyone to act this way, but the urgency in his voice only grew the more you insisted you should leave.

That’s when he finally allowed himself to drop the act and belt out his normal voice, he growled deeply beforehand. “I said no, you’re mine, you hear me? You must not leave me! I will not stand for it.”

You would be lying if you said you weren’t afraid of him for the duration of this conversation, but you also were completely understanding, strangely enough.

“I said I was coming back, I’ll always come back,” you assured the tall man and smiled up at him.

His grip on your arm only tightened. “Please.” The desperation in his voice only worsened as you insisted, and if you left, he would not forgive you so easily.

You sighed in defeat and chuckled. He was still hurting and in more pain than you could imagine, the least you could do was stay here until he was able to let you go for a few hours. That’s when you set your bag down and closed the front door while Brahms continued to hover near you, and when you locked it up, that’s when he dropped to his knees, his height still impressive as he leaned his head against your stomach and held onto you.

Unsure of your next move, you slid a hand through his hair and stroked his curly locks, allowing yourself to feel just how soft you had imagined they’d be.

Brahms let out a satisfied groan as he finally felt you touch him for the first time, his skin crawling from the shivers he got as he allowed himself to bask in the pleasure he so longed to feel. You were his and he would not let you touch anyone else. What he imagined you would do with your hands once he had you all to himself was never this comforting, but he wouldn’t turn you away, not now or ever. His eyes closed as he breathed in your scent, the warmth from your body warming his hands while he sat there like that for a little while.

“You must be uncomfortable, come on, let’s get you up. You hungry?” You pulled away slightly from him to look down at his covered face, your hand still playing with his hair.

“Not yet.” He peeked up and looked at you, his eyes a beautiful color of greenish-hazel that peered at you silently for a moment. “You won’t leave, will you?” he asked quietly.

“If you ask me nicely, I won’t,” you replied sweetly.

He paused and his grip tightened on you. “Please, don’t leave…?”

This made you chuckle as you grabbed his arm and tugged on it gently, signaling him to stand, which he did. Brahms towered over you easily while you pulled him along to the living room, where you placed your bag and your sweater over the back of the chair nearest to the door. He shuffled along with his bare feet barely making a sound as he walked to where you stood, not once taking his eyes off of you. He feared you would try to distract him and leave the first chance you get, but he didn’t want to be alone right now, he needed you there for him before he allowed himself to wallow in sadness.

“I think we should read something, anything you’d like, what do you think?” you asked happily, your eyes scanning the titles as you felt the man walk up toward you again.

His breathing was heard from behind his mask and you had wondered just what he looked like, but you feared how he would react negatively if you were to try and have a look. Instead, you took this for what it was and accepted that you may never get a look at him, you just enjoyed being around someone who cared for you so deeply. It was misguided, sure, but you would have to be the one to teach him things now.

You pulled out the book that you haven’t seen in years, a title you remember reading back in middle school as an assignment but ended up enjoying more than you thought. “I love ‘Phantom of the Opera’!” you gasped as you turned back to Brahms, his glass face closer than you expected. “Would you like me to read it?”

Brahms unexpectedly pulled your body closer against his own, the earthy smell of his cardigan taking over your nose. He wanted to say something to you, he wanted to tell you so many things, but how would he even begin to start when you looked at him like that? Wordlessly, he tugged at your sleeve and pulled you toward the large sofa and waited for you to sit down. Once you did and propped up against your side with one of the decorative pillows, his lanky frame had enveloped around you as he laid his head on your lap, wanting to feel as close to you as he possibly could.

You didn’t mind this, in fact, you found yourself craving his touch as you sat there and turned to the first page of the book, your heart raced as his head rested against your stomach and his chin rested on your lap. You allowed your hand to run through his curls again as you began to read, feeling his heart thumping against your leg while you tried to focus your attention on the writing.

You read it for over an hour, getting about halfway into the book when you realized that Brahms had dozed off in your lap, but as much as you had wanted to move, you knew you would wake him. You looked over toward the clock, which read that it was already three in the afternoon and you had chores to finish. You set the book down and stroked the side of the man’s face, hoping he would stir soon.

“Brahms, let’s get you to the bedroom,” you offered as you shifted your leg a little.

In protest, Brahms groaned and clung to your waist tighter, lazily tilting his head up to look at you with half-lidded eyes. “Come with me, please,” he began to whine, his hands grabbing fistfuls of your shirt to keep you in place. You couldn’t go now, he had enjoyed you so much here, forgetting about everything around you both.

The more you wanted to pull away from him the more he fought it, your frustration growing as he refused to release you. That was when you had wanted to raise your voice and firmly tell him that he needed to behave, but you were thrown off when he had suddenly risen and hovered over your body, his face inches from yours as he glared daggers at you. You didn’t feel threatened whatsoever, you did feel that he would retaliate and throw a tantrum, which was more of a minor inconvenience than anything. You had grown accustomed to this behavior and did your best to rectify it, but his parents had let him get away with so much that it took longer to sink in, especially with whatever was truly wrong with the man.

None of that really mattered and it wasn’t a problem for you since you had seen the lengths Brahms would go to because he cared, no matter how misguided it was. Being here for six months, you began to pick up the ins and outs of his mannerisms, the way he would react to certain things you did or didn’t do, it was intriguing, to say the least.

You looked at him as he hovered, his hands firmly planted on either side of you as you sunk beneath his intense gaze on the sofa, afraid to say anything more. He leaned in close to you and you could hear him smelling your hair through the holes in his mask. “Brahms,” you began, but you didn’t have the heart to continue.

Brahms only consumed you as he pressed his mask against your face, mimicking a kiss as if he wasn’t wearing it. When he pulled away, his breathing picked up slightly. “Don’t you dare leave me, Y/N, I will not allow it. You are mine, I chose you and you stayed with me, do not make me regret this decision.”

Possessive, that was it.

You sighed and cupped his mask’s cheek, the cold surface of the porcelain seeping into your fingertips as you held it there. “I am yours,” you agreed, “but not allowing me to follow your rules and do the chores isn’t the way to prove that.” The only way to win this game was to use his rules against him. You smiled, feeling triumphant against his growing frustration while you looked into those unknowing eyes.

He was weak to your touch despite not feeling it against the mask, but the motions of your hand as if it were on his own skin made him shiver, the danger in his eyes subsiding as he looked at you with more adoration than anything. He was weak for you in more ways than one, his own body working against him as he mindlessly reached up and placed his hand on yours, his long digits wrapping around your own.

“I'm…” he sputtered, but couldn’t finish.

“Brahms, it’s okay, we’re taking it one day at a time. I swear to you, you can trust me.” You closed your eyes as you felt his hand give yours a small squeeze.

“That’s what they all say,” he retorted in slight annoyance.

“And that’s why I’m going to prove myself to make sure those words no longer have an empty meaning.” You were also annoyed, mainly for those who had hurt him and pushed him to the brink of trusting no one, but he was only human. He needed stability and normalcy more than ever. “Come on, you should rest. I’ll wake you up once dinner is finished, deal?”

With a small scoff to follow, he nodded his head and reluctantly followed you to his room, his feet shuffling against the carpeted areas and then silent when he reached the doorframe of the room. He didn’t enter with you as you continued to walk in, he just watched you set up the bed and smooth out the blankets, but he tilted his head as he watched you pull your hands away.

“This bed is rather small, you sure you’ll be alright here?” you asked him softly, thinking that your gaze would meet his as you spun around.

He wasn’t there anymore, instead, he decided to take the opportunity to take this moment and turn it into a game. Brahms tiptoed away from the room as you readied the blankets and took off down the hall, sneaking into the master bedroom that you had slept in. He took it upon himself to slither under the covers and act as if he’d done nothing wrong, waiting to see how you would react.

When you figured he was hiding from you, the first thought was he was in the walls and knocked on it. “Brahms, you know I don’t know where the doors are,” you groaned with a smile, “you’re not playing fair.”

He laughed to himself as he heard you knocking on the walls, speaking as if he were right beside you, watching. He would fall into a fit of laughter once you discovered that he was content within the safety of your sheets. Your scent was still on them, the sweet and gentle smell along with the fragrance of your shampoo; it drove him wild as he would smell it mixed with your natural odor. He had grabbed a fistful of the material and inhaled, a content sigh followed as he imagined you beside him, his mind racing with other thoughts, too. In addition to you being there and taking care of him along with the Manor, maybe he would have to show you that he wanted you for another reason.

You were beautiful inside and out, you never retreated in fear, you met his behavior with a fire of your own and never backed down. He adored you. Brahms wanted to stay and play the game longer, but now another game was on his mind, so he slid out of the bed and quietly made his way to your closet. There within was another hidden door, so he made sure to cover his tracks and shut everything behind him, snickering to himself as he wove his way through the paths, finally meeting you on the second floor, where he watched you walk toward the stairs.

Brahms quickly emerged from a nearby door and flipped the light switch off, flooding you with total darkness, save for the setting suns glow from outside.

You gasped and stopped where you were, your eyes wide as you waited to adjust to the light. “Brahms, I swear if that was you…” you barked, feeling a little frightened.

There was a small child-like giggle that pulled your attention behind you until it was too late. You felt his hands on your back, quickly capturing your arms and holding them down at your sides. “Gotcha.”

“That wasn’t funny!” you sighed, a small laugh of relief followed. “What are you doing, Brahms?” Your voice got smaller as you were held into place, not wanting to fight your way out of his grasp in case he tightened his grip.

Brahms didn’t say anything, instead, he leaned forward and leaned his face against your hair as he sniffed at it, shuddering as the smell intoxicated him. He wanted to act on impulse and take you right there and then, the overwhelming urge was hitting him like a wave crashing against the side of a cliff. He hadn’t even noticed that his breaths had become sporadic and uneven until your voice seemed miles and miles away and called out to him.

“Brahms,” you breathed, leaning your head back against his shoulder, “come on now, let me go so I can get back to the chores.” You didn’t think much of his behavior, you only figured he was just a little more playful since he had gotten some rest.

“New rule for tonight,” he breathed beside your ear, smiling beneath the mask. With that, he guided you along back to your room and didn’t bother turning on the lights, then he pushed you over toward the bed and watched as you stumbled onto the plush mattress.

Whatever had come over him, it was not something you’d seen in his behavior before, this was new and it was definitely foreign to you. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t imagine Brahms doing this to you, his large hands groping at your body as you lay beneath him, allowing him to take control and dominate you. He was a shy mess of a man, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t end up taking what he wanted soon or later, and you were curious to see how this would play out.

There wasn’t much time to think before the man had towered over you as he crawled onto the bed, the light of the sunset now drowned beyond the horizon, and the only lights in the room were the dim glow of the candle flames. You could see the minor details in his mask as he looked down at you, noticing the pulse of your heartbeat beating against your neck. He knew that meant your heart was racing and you were nervous, maybe even scared.

You reached out your hand and placed it on the side of his mask again, desperately wanting to see what mysteries it held beneath it, but the last thing you wanted was for Brahms to pull away and change his mind. You smiled and traced the outline of the lips, dragging your fingertip slowly along the chipped porcelain.

“Brahms,” you said again. Truth be told, you loved saying his name as much as you could, you loved the way he would react to you saying it, too. You noticed it every time, the way his body would respond with a small jump or a twitch of his shoulder. You didn’t know what it was, but you enjoyed it.

You had only realized this was the first time you were together in your bed. He had always retreated into the walls after you would tuck him in while in his old room, so you hadn’t even realized it until you were as close as you could have been. You would imagine it late at night, wanting to touch yourself as you pictured him sneaking into your bed and taking you under the thick blankets as he would touch you everywhere. As much as you wanted to, you kept the personal touching to a minimum in case you were to wake Brahms or draw attention to yourself. The last thing you needed was getting caught.

Now though, the man you had dreamt of touching you was right here, hovering above you as you froze in place, unable to move and guide him like your body yearned for. Would he make the first move and go with it? You hoped he would.

Brahms looked at your body through the eye holes of the mask, swallowing you up as he allowed one of his hands to get dangerously close to your breast. His eyes flickered up to yours as he watched you curiously. He wondered if you would punish him if he were to touch you. You didn’t object as he awaited your permission, so he grabbed at you and squeezed, what followed was music to his ears. You let out a gasp mixed with an audible moan, and he wanted to hear more, so that’s when he no longer decided to wait for permission.

His other hand found your other breast, he began kneading them and rubbing his thumb over your hardening buds, watching as you arched your back slightly under his touch. He got comfortable and straddled your hips, you already felt him hardening against your thigh as you sprawled back against the bed.

“Brahms!” You cried out, wanting to feel more than just the heavy petting he was giving, but you had to be patient with him, so you bit back your whining of protest and allowed him to explore you.

He released a low guttural growl as you cried it his name, wanting to hear it again. He slowly began to work his hips as he began to grind into your leg, feeling the friction against him only made him become more impatient. “Say it again,” he demanded.

You blushed at his request, his name formed on the tip of your tongue so easily as you looked away out of embarrassment. “Brahms, please,” you begged, not wanting to give in. You wanted to give him everything you had; your heart, your body, your soul. This man burned himself into your brain, unable to think straight when he was around, you couldn’t understand it even if you tried.

Pushing everything aside that screamed at you to rethink it, your hand had reacted before you even thought about it, and you slid your cool fingertips under the edge of the mask. His rough beard tickled your skin as you boldly continued your exploration and suddenly came into contact with his marred skin. You had no idea why he exactly wore the mask, you never figured to ask, afraid of upsetting him. When you heard him gasp as your fingers met its mark, you quickly sat up and looked at him, your noses only an inch apart as you placed your other hand on his face. Wordlessly, you slid the bottom half of the mask up and kissed his lips.

You expected him to push you away and cut you off from the attention he had been giving you, but you were pleasantly surprised when he met your kiss back with such fervor that you almost didn’t get a chance to prepare yourself.

Brahms had always imagined what you would taste like on his lips, how soft yours were against his own, and just how much he would melt into your touch. He feared how you would react to seeing his face for the first time, the horror you would endure just laying your eyes upon his face, but here in the darkness, he had nothing to worry about. His body relaxed beneath your touch and he finally allowed himself to give in.

What the man expected from you wasn’t any of this, he surely didn’t understand why you wrapped your arms around his neck and continued to kiss him, your lips slowly beginning to travel from his lips to his cheek, down his neck. Without thinking twice, he removed the mask completely and tossed it aside on the pillow. He was too distracted to notice how your eye had lit up, the sunset rays causing the room to glow, which illuminated his face. He looked back at you and saw the complete reverence in your eyes as you drank him in, etching the way he looked into your mind as you bit your lip to hold back your words.

He tried to tug away from you and reach for the mask again, but your hand against his face stopped him as his eyes met yours again.

“You’re breathtaking, you know that?” you asked in a whisper.

You doubt Brahms had ever blushed before but you surely witnessed it now, his head turned away from yours, covering his burns from your gaze as he tried to catch his bearings. “You don’t mean that,” he snapped.

If you couldn’t convince him with words, you would go beyond that to show him just how you truly felt. You pushed yourself up to reach him, your lips once again connected with his skin as you peppered his neck in gentle kisses while one of your hands slid beneath his shirt as you ran it across his bare stomach. He let out a breathy moan as your hand decided to go a bit lower, palming him through his trousers, his excitement returning as he continued to straddle you. He decided this was the point of no return and greedily tugged at your shirt, quickly sliding it over your head and he disposed of it somewhere on the floor.

Gently, you pushed the cardigan he wore off of his broad shoulders and watched as it was discarded onto the floor with the rest of the clothes you both wore. Brahms was hesitant to strip completely in front of you as his hands stopped at the hem of his underwear, but you wanted him to want this as much as you did, so you smiled and waited. He took a deep breath and removed them, quickly he leaned over you so you wouldn’t have much of an opportunity to look at him, and that’s when you got to feel him against you for the first time.

He wasted no time in rubbing against you, his body twitching as he could feel the slickness from your core while he positioned himself between your legs. His body shuddered as he pushed into you, finally feeling you as he gave several off-pace thrusts, allowing his body to adjust. You cried out his name again once he entered you, your arms wrapped around him and you pulled him closer, matching your hip movements with his own for more of a rhythm. You couldn’t hold back as your moaning echoed through the room, feeling him thrust as deep as he could go.

Your face was buried in the crook of his neck as your hands gripped tightly at his shoulders, your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him in further. He wouldn’t last long and he was disappointed in himself as he could already feel that pressure building in the pit of his stomach, all he wanted was to make you proud, but the way you cried out with your muffled screams only made him want to cum even quicker.

“I can’t-” he began, but you only silenced him with a deep kiss.

“It’s fine, keep going,” you replied, breathless from your movements as you clung to him in desperation. “Please, Brahms, cum for me.”

He couldn’t hold back any longer as his body shook and he growled deeply next to your ear, his voice ragged as he called out your name, spilling himself within you as his hips jerked and then finally slowed. His breathing was heavy as his chest heaved against your own, but you didn’t even mind that you didn’t get to cum with him, you just wanted this moment to last forever as you held him close. As sweaty as you both were, you didn’t want to move as you rested your head against his chest until he finally found the strength to pull away, his face soft as he looked down at you. You didn’t know what went through his mind, but it didn’t matter.

Again, you cupped the side of his cheek and placed a gentle kiss on his marred skin. “I love you, Brahms.”

He couldn’t help but smile as you looked at him like that. “I love you.”


End file.
